At The End Of All Things
by Mint Bubble
Summary: What happens if Frodo dies? How will it affect the fellowship?


Disclaimer: Don't sue us. Please people, you must have better things to do. Right? Anyway, is all JRR Tolkien. All hail. We do not own anything.  
  
Authors Note: This is just us trying out an idea. We are trying to do a new genre besides humour. Please be gentle... What would have happened if Frodo had let go? If you like it we'll put more up. Waiting for reviews (hint hint)  
  
~*~  
  
At The End Of All Things  
  
Part 1  
  
"Don't let go Mr. Frodo. Don't ever let go." Sam muttered through gritted teeth. His arm was stretched to breaking point, his hand grasping Frodo's and praying for more strength. But he wasn't going to make it. Frodo was exhausted, covered in dirt and bruises but he seemed to glow from within, to Sam's tired eyes. Frodo's face looked- no, was younger, more innocent. Sam hadn't seen Frodo look like this since Bilbo's leaving party. He was happy, and a great weight had been lifted from his soul.  
  
"Sam. I remember." Knowing what was coming next, Sam's eyes welled up again.  
  
"Why?"  
  
Frodo closed his eyes. "Because." Giving Sam a final peaceful smile, he let go.  
  
"Frodo! No!" Sam screamed but Frodo still fell down. It all seemed to slow down before Sam's eyes. It seemed like some cruel joke of Sauron, his last stand against them. But staring down, heartbroken, Sam could only see Frodo's peaceful expression.  
  
Frodo's words echoed in his mind. "Remember..." Remember what? Sam wanted to scream but who would listen? There was no one there.  
  
Sam ran out of Mt. Doom, tears stinging his eyes and blurring his vision. He ran blindly down, every step seeming like a knife in his heart. He fell, his face hitting the ground. A nearby stone left a bloody gash on his cheek but he did not feel the pain. A strange numbness swept over him as he fled from the wreckage. Sam pushed himself up, and looked over at the mountain of fire. The ground shook as it collapsed, with rocks and debris flying everywhere. Sam stumbled forward, and collapsed on to a ledge where they had fought Gollum. Only minutes ago? It seemed like days. He curled himself into a ball and sobbed. "Remember?"  
  
The sky darkened overhead. Glancing up, Sam saw three huge shapes. His eyes did not register what they were. If they were Black Riders, good. He would die. He deserved to die. Remember what? His eyes darkened and he passed out.  
  
~*~  
  
Gandalf  
  
Swooping above the remains of Mt. Doom, I spotted a tiny shape curled on a rock below. Gwaihir swept lower to look closer, and my heart sank to see only one figure. Where was the other? Surely he was not- no, it couldn't be. But then where was he?  
  
One of the eagles landed and picked up the lone figure. I guided Gwaihir nearer the eagle and I saw that it was Sam. Gwaihir flew lower to survey the area but I saw no sign of Frodo. So. He was dead.  
  
Choking back a sob, I called the eagles back to Gondor. "Frodo knew the risks", I muttered. "He understood what might happen". I kept repeating this to myself, but it wasn't helping. He was gone. And I didn't even talk to him. He never knew that I had survived the Balrog. I glanced at Sam, with his body clasped in the claws of the huge bird. Blood trickled down the side of his face, the only colour against his pale skin. I sighed. Who knew what terrors the poor hobbit had been through. I doubted he would tell anyone. As we flew past the remains of the Black Gates, I looked back one last time, praying to see Frodo stumbling out of the wreckage, but I saw no one, save a few orcs who had not come out when they were summoned to fight. They were already picking over the bodies of their comrades and enemies. "Curse the filthy scavengers." I swore. Wherever Frodo was, I hoped they would never find him.  
  
~*~  
  
Some time later, they reached the Citadel in Gondor. Minas Tirith, the white city, stained with the blood of men and orcs alike, so mixed that no one could tell the difference. Who said that war was glorious? If anything, it was pointless and cost the life of thousands- not only those who had perished but their families who were waiting for news of their husbands or brothers, sons or fathers. Tears would flood the city, the aftermath of war.  
  
Gandalf landed in the courtyard where the white tree still lay, withered and dead. Immediately workers from the Houses of Healing gently lowered Sam onto a stretcher and carried him away. The Istari watched the healers carry the prone form down the stairs. Suddenly, he looked very, very old and tired. He felt a deep desire to leave Middle-Earth and go west. But he could do that later. First he had to break the news to Aragorn.  
  
~*~  
  
Merry  
  
"Sam! You made it!" I exclaimed, as the healers carried him in.  
  
"Hush, master Brandybuck, he must rest!" One of them hissed.  
  
"But where's Frodo?" I asked. "Where is he?"  
  
They didn't answer. They bowed their heads and none of them would meet my gaze. They busied themselves, tending to Sam's wounds, grey robes blocking my view. He looked terrible. But where was Frodo? Surely he wasn't- surely he had returned?  
  
"Master hobbit, do not trouble the healers. They have much work to do."  
  
Turning around, I saw Faramir approaching.  
  
Frowning, Faramir asked me "Who are they caring for? Aren't all the casualties already here?"  
  
"It's Sam!" I cried. "They just brought him in!"  
  
We caught sight of one of the senior healers glaring at us and we hastily left for the gardens.  
  
~*~  
  
Faramir  
  
We entered the gardens, green shrubbery of many different kinds obscuring our view of the houses.  
  
"Have you seen Frodo?" Merry demanded, his voice shrill.  
  
I shook my head. "No, I was about to ask you that. Why, hasn't he been brought in yet?"  
  
Merry paled visibly, resembling how he looked when he had just fought the witch king. "No".  
  
"We must find Gandalf." I said, trying to keep my voice even so as to calm the hobbit. "Perhaps Frodo is with him." Merry seemed somewhat comforted but my own fears were not assuaged. I doubted the truth of my own words. Where was Frodo? He had to have survived.  
  
Merry perched on a bench but I paced up and down. I remembered what the creature they had with them when they left Osgiliath said. He had claimed that he wasn't leading them into danger but how could Faramir trust his word? Sam clearly had not believed him but Frodo had. Could it have taken advantage of Frodo's trust and attacked him? What had become of the creature anyway? Could it have -perished- along with (he gulped) Frodo? He had to find Gandalf. 


End file.
